born under a bad sign
by milk ghost
Summary: "Trained assassins, whoa. I didn't sign up for this." Wherein Kim Crawford is just your average teenage girl who gets caught up in the fray of an ancient battle. Good thing she has a blackbelt and sharp wit. And that Jack guy might not be so bad either.—jack/kim


**notes:** so once upon a time this was like my favorite tv show and for some reason i felt the urge to write this. also, _the medallion_ was one of my favorite movies as a little girl so this is very, _very_ loosely based on that. **  
****dedication:** to all of the kung fu/karate movies i've ever seen. and trust me, that number is the the high double digits because of my dad. also, i've seen almost every jackie chan movie out there and honestly, it's a little disconcerting. **  
****disclaimer:** haha, no.

x

( _you better believe in karma, because it's going to start getting weird right here_ )

x

 **i.** ( **half a lifetime of trouble** , _or_ **curse of the medallion** )

"Do you think—is there honestly any chance—that you could maybe reconsider shoving me into my own locker?"

Sometimes, actually on most days, Kim is almost positive that she possesses a crazy weird sixth sense that alerts her to her best friend being bullied or messed with. Kind of like Spidey-senses, but...not as cool. It starts out with a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that only gets stronger when she tries to ignore it. Basically it's a tiny voice that sounds alarmingly like the security guard at the mall screaming 'red alert red alert' and if she chooses to follow this warning, it usually ends with her best friend in peril. In any case, she's just learned embrace this weirdness and move on with her life.

And right now, her Krupnick senses are tingling.

She scans the area and locks onto her target: the lockers. From then on, it's a beeline through the few stragglers still in the hallway before the second bell/after school, across the tiled floor and straight to the source of great distress. Sighing to herself, she balances her books under one arm and waves some of the jocks surrounding the spectacle away with her other hand. Then she places it on her hip and taps the toe of her right sneaker against the floor.

"Frank Bickle, and here I thought you had better things to be doing than picking on kids smaller than you."

The older boy instantly freezes and turns around. His eyes are wide in surprise. "K-Kim!"

She rolls her eyes and thinks, _typical._ "What a shame too. I guess some guys just don't ever grow up and out of the 'picking on kids on the playground' thing. Girls don't actually like that, you know."

Wrong type of bad boy demeanor, she doesn't say.

Frank blushes red from his hairline to where his skin disappears under his shirt and letterman. "Uh, well I...you—you look pretty today?"

Yes, she knows. She might be wearing beat up old pink high tops, but they match nicely with her floral sundress and jean jacket. It has a hood, which she thinks is both cool and conventional. She'd also curled her hair this morning and is wearing a new pair of earrings.

Kim purses her lips and prepares herself for what she knows is coming. It's like an extraordinarily sad ritual she's come to expect these past few months. Frank's crush on her isn't new by any chance, and hardly unnoticeable. He's just not her type. He might be, if he didn't bully kids smarter than him into doing his homework or stuff others smaller than him into lockers, or—

"S-so uh Kim, I was actually wondering if...maybe you would...go out with me?"

Hold up a second. What was that now.

"What," she deadpans.

From somewhere behind the walking muscle mass that is Frank Bickle, there's giggling. It sounds like a girl but she knows it's not.

Frank briefly glances over at his friends, apparently seeking encouragement. They nod their heads in that 'yeah bro you got this bro' way that she thinks is a poor excuse for a cheering method. It seems to be enough for him though. At least for the moment.

It'd be kind of cute, his insecurity about asking her out, if it weren't for the fact that he's such an astronomical _asshole_.

I asked you if you wanted to go out with me? There's this new horror movie showing at the theater tonight and—"

Oh, so this is really happening. She wasn't dreaming it after all. Bummer.

"Frank," she begins sweetly, because she kind of zoned out for a second there and he seems to be taking her silence as an acceptation of his offer, I do not—nor will I ever—want to go out with you. You are in fact, the greatest douche I've ever met and I honestly don't find that attractive in guys. Also, you're always beating on my best friend, which I do not appreciate and is totally not cool. C'mon Milton, I'm feeling snacky and falafels actually sound good right now."

And besides, she's not really into horror flicks—at least, not after she fell asleep in the last one she went to. It gave her weird dreams for _weeks_ afterward.

Her stick of a best friend squeezes out from behind a frozen frank and waves at her. Her wannabe suitor doesn't even move as Milton scrambles past him and towards his friend.

Kim thinks about blowing the remaining boys kisses but decides 'mm, better not' and instead loops her arms through Milton's offered one. She smiles and jokes with her friend about something her history teacher said earlier and, after a quick stop at her locker, they walk out the doors—leaving behind a furious Frank in their wake.

x

She sucks on the straw of her smoothie as Milton pushes around the falafels in front of him. He's been looking really down lately, and she wonders why. The Milton she knows doesn't mope, or stare blankly at his food when there are 'exciting' things that happened in calculus to relay. He just looks...really worn out? And has for the past week, so she's seriously worried about him okay because _this is not Milton_. He goes to bed at like nine every night and gets up at six, so logically, there's no way he should look this exhausted. That is nine hours of solid sleep.

"Milton, are you okay? You seem kind of...down, lately."

It takes him at least a minute to register what she's said, process it, and come up with a reply.

"Ah just, just you know," he says warily, "preparing for the spelling bee."

Kim frowns and swirls her straw around. "But you love the spelling bee Milton. Like seriously, that's usually all I hear about for weeks when it comes around."

Milton shrugs. "Maybe it just seems harder this year."

She wonders if it's family problems, because her family definitely has problems. But there's no good way to bring that up even though they've been friends since the seventh grade. He's seen her dance. He survived her Ricky Weaver stage—and they don't speak about that disaster _ever_. He's even let her cry on his shoulder about how the boys she wants to notice her never do. And yet she can't even help him with...whatever's going on.

Kim abruptly stands and slams her palms down on the table, making him jump and look at her with wide eyes. There is a distinct sound of bleating from somewhere in the kitchen which they both choose to ignore. "That's it, Krupnick! I won't stand for this! I'm going to cheer you up if it's the last thing I ever do! The Milton David Krupnick I know wouldn't drown his sorrows in falafels, so we're going to try a less greasy approach. Retail therapy, brother. It works wonders. Also, I could use a spa day and it is literally right across from us."

Milton looks skeptical, so she tries to persuade him into going. "They have cucumber facials," she sings lightly, knowing how much he likes them.

Kim can pinpoint the exact moment when Milton caves, and she knows that she's won. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?"

She flips some of her blonde curls over her shoulder and smiles. "Of course not. Also, I heard that there's this really cool new store open by the hotdog place and I want to check it out. It'll be quick, promise."

He shrugs, but offers her a little smile. "Then let's go. I don't know how much longer I can ignore goat in the kitchen."

"THERE IS NO GOAT IN THE KITCHEN. NOT AT ALL."

Kim rolls her eyes at Phil's screeches from behind the counter. Milton opens the door for her and they're instantly blasted with the California heat as they step outside. She wearily fans herself as Milton decides where they should go first. The only problem is that he can't.

She glances over at him as she steps out into the courtyard. "Well, I'm feeling like instant air conditioning, so the closest place is the spa. Then maybe we could—"

Kim flails helplessly as something crashes right into her. The next thing she knows, she's lying on the stone ground staring up at the sky. It's awfully blue today, and the clouds above are spinning. She's pretty sure that isn't supposed to happen. Someone offers her a hand and, when she doesn't feel like she's about to pass out, she takes it and the person pulls her up.

It's a guy, with a skateboard—that he was obviously on even though the rules _strictly forbid it_. She should probably feel grateful that he helped her up and didn't just pull a hit-and-run. She should thank him and maybe tell him to be a little bit more careful next time. She does not.

" _Excuse me_ ," she hisses, "why don't you watch where you're going next time, buddy? Maybe that way you won't run over unsuspecting girls in a no skating zone."

Milton gapes, even though he's seen this side of Kim before, and sometimes—not always, but sometimes—it ends with her embarrassing herself.

The guy is tall, okay, and she has to look up to speak directly to him. She's almost standing on her toes, arms folded across her chest and her nose is crinkled up in her agitated but cute way. Sometimes he wonders if she could ever honestly look angry with someone. He doesn't think so.

Skater dude lifts his head, and Kim's eyes widen in surprise and both she and Milton probably think, _oh no_ at the same time. Kind of for the same reason, but not. Kim sometimes doesn't actually think before she speaks, which can be a problem for her later. Like now later.

He's taller than her for sure, with sparkling brown eyes that remind her of her mom's favorite chocolates that she keeps stashed away. She's never seen him before, but he looks like he's lived in Seaford all his life with his dark complexion. His hair sticks out from under his helmet and it's the same color as his eyes. She thinks, _oh no, what have I done_ at the same time Milton is mentally slapping his forehead and thinking, _oh no, I knew this would happen._

She can practically feel the blush burning down her neck.

Cue dorky Kim mode.

The blonde recoils immediately, practically flailing and shaking her head. "Sorry I—you— _wowlookatthetimeIgottago_!"

Kim spins around on her feel, face mortified, and silently screams at her best friend who is standing there, looking at her in pity. He should _not_ be feeling pity for her, okay. She grabs Milton's wrist and drags him along during her Olympic race high tailing it to the opposite end of the mall. Aka, as far away from the cute skater boy as possible.

Milton is looking ready to keel over by the time they stop, and Kim is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She turns this breakdown on him. "Why do you let me even talk to people, Milton?! Why?! I'm a bigger nerd than you are! No offense Milton, seriously. You know I love you but—" she clutches her head and turns toward the shop they're standing in front of in distress.

Kim blinks. Several times. Then, "oh hey, this is that new store I was wanting to stop by. Do you think we could maybe peek inside before we head to the spa?"

Milton squints at the joint, the epitome of skepticism. Honestly, he has a fair right to that, too, because it looks way sketchy. The sign is in Chinese or something, the faded red paint on the walls is peeling, and he can barely see inside the windows. In other words, it looks like a breeding ground for germs. So many germs.

"Um, Kim? Are you sure this place is new? It looks...not new."

The blonde waves a hand and bobs her head, apparently captivated. "Yeah, this is it."

He's still highly skeptical. Mostly because it looks like those stores in the movies that people go in and never come back out of. He doesn't want to end up on the six o'clock news, thank you very much. "Okay but, where did you even hear about this? I don't even remember this being here before."

And it looks like it's been here longer than the actual mall has.

Kim shrugs. "You know, I actually don't remember. I probably saw a flyer for it or something. Anyway, can we Milton? Pretty please? I'll even see if I can introduce Julie to you."

She knows the exact moment he gives in. "Sure. Maybe for just a few minutes."

Kim throws him one of her prettiest, pearl white smiles that make most boys feel a little faint. Not like she knows it. "Thanks Krupnick."

Milton mumbles to himself. "But you'd better put in a good word for me with Julie."

She bats her lashes and pulls open the door. A bell jingles merrily overhead as they step through the doorframe. "Consider it done. You two would be perfect for each other. I can't believe I didn't think of this before. Maybe I should—"

Kim cuts herself off with a gasp as she takes in the room around them. Milton squints through the darkness and tries not to cough at the intense smell of herbs and tea. It's a little overwhelming.

There's nobody behind the counter, or even in the store besides them, it appears. The room is dingy at best—filled with all kinds of imported merchandise. There are various herbs hanging from the ceiling, teas tucked neatly away behind glass cases, even a songbird eyeing them from its perch in a discolored cage sitting on one of the displays. It eyes them warily, but Kim is delighted.

"This place looks like something out of a movie or something," she says, peeking into the canary's cage. It ruffles its feathers and hops closer to her.

Milton shakes his head. "Or something," he mutters under his breath.

Something about this place is giving him a weird feeling. Almost like...they're being watched? Which would normally make sense because most shops have security cameras, but he didn't notice any on his way in. besides, this kind of feeling is different. It sends a shiver up his spine and makes his hair stand on end. It's not natural.

"Hey Milton, come look at this!"

Kim points at a display case at the desk, pretty blue eyes sparkling, and he begrudgingly drags himself over to look inside. There's a wide assortment of things—healing charms, pretty little trinkets, crystals fitted into necklaces, what he's pretty sure is a rabbit's foot, and something peeking out from behind some silk purses.

I want to see what it looks like," Kim frowns. "It looks like a necklace or something."

"Does the pretty young lady wish to see the medallion?"

Both teenagers nearly jump out of their skin at the accented voice, and there are two girlish screams. Kim presses a hand to her chest and glances sheepishly at the extremely /elderly/ man behind the counter. He's dressed like something out of a movie, exactly like his shop.

She smiles shakily. "Um, yes. Please?"

The shop owner seems very ecstatic after nearly giving his two maybe customers double heart attacks. "Yes, yes! I will show you! Here, come closer."

He pulls a chain from around his neck and inserts the key hanging around it into the case lock. He reaches inside and pulls the golden thing out of the counter and sets it on top of the glass. Kim and Milton crowd closer, peering down at the medallion. It's a shiny gold thing with a small square cut out of the middle and intricate lines intertwining all around the plate.

It looks very, very old.

And probably expensive.

"Wow that's..." Kim struggles to find the words, "really cool. Is it old?"

The man nods. "Yes, yes. Ancient."

Milton raises a brow.

"The medallion is centuries old, my dear. It is a treasure from the great wasabi's kingdom, and is magical. Legends say that—"

He studies them for a second, long and hard, and seems to find whatever he's looking for because he continues.

"—it can bring the dead back to life!"

Milton scoffs. "Yeah right."

Even Kim looks a little disbelieving, although she's trying to be nice. "Really? Whoa. Sounds like something out of a story."

He chuckles. "Something like that, I suppose. In any case, since you two are my first customers in many years and have shown genuine interest in my shop, I would like to give you a gift."

Milton grows increasingly uncomfortable as the conversation goes on, and Kim looks a little wary too. Ancient-looking old men who gave teenagers gifts just out of the blue were usually things they were warned to stay away from. But to their surprise, he pushes the medallion toward Kim and smiles. He's missing most of his teeth.

"You want me to take that?" Kim asks in disbelief.

He nods. "For the girl with the strong mind and strong heart. You will need them both in the future."

She wrinkles her nose, blushes a little, but doesn't say anything.

Milton starts when the old man turns to him. "You young man, you're stronger than you think. Do not let your enemies defeat you, whether it be in body or in spirit."

He slips him a small, folded piece of paper and nods at them. "Thank you for visiting my shop young ones. It does my old heart good to see people like you still exist. Now, be on your way. The fates are waiting."

Kim glances down at the medallion. "Sir, are you sur—" she stops in surprise when she looks up and there's no one behind the counter. Or anywhere in sight.

Milton slips the paper into his pocket and shivers. "L-let's get out of here, Kim. In the words of Velma, this place gives me the jeepers."

She almost smiles, grabs the medallion, and heads to the door. "Um, thank you sir? Are you sure you don't want me to pay for this?"

Her question is met with silence, and, after a moment of fidgeting, she sighs and opens the door. Milton follows her out, taking in deep breaths of fresh air as he does.

"That was super weird," Kim comments.

He pulls the paper out of his pocket and opens it. "You're telling me," he presses his lips together and shows her the slip. "It's blank," he deadpans.

She laughs and holds up the medallion. "Do you think this would go with anything in my closet?"

He squints as it gleams in the sun. "That's probably fake too, just so you know. A piece of costume jewelry he most likely bought at a flea market or something. Ew, I just grossed myself out."

Kim grins at him. "Oh well, at least it was free. And I don't know, I kind of like it."

Milton shrugs. "Whatever you say, Crawford. But, I'm really feeling cucumbers right now."

"Okay okay, we can go, Krupnick."

x

It's Monday, which is officially the first day she's worn the medallion. It's not like anyone can see it, tucked away inside her pretty pale yellow blouse, but that's okay. It feels like a secret between Milton and herself, one that she intends to keep. She likes the thrill of having something that's supposedly shrouded in Chinese folklore. and even if it's not true, at least the thing is pretty and small enough that it's not even as big as her palm.

Kim is on her way to personal finance when her Krupnick senses start tingling.

Sighing and tucking a few strands of straightened hair behind her ear, she makes her way over to the garbage cans at the end of the hall. They're just big enough that freshmen and unfortunately, Milton fit inside of them. If it's Frank and his crew again, she swears...

Coming up on her destination, she is not surprised to find that it is indeed a very angry-looking Frank and his buddies. Really, she's getting pretty tired of this.

Kim sighs and drops her books onto the floor. The sound of the impact makes Frank and his friends jump and turn around, and she's also not surprised to see Milton's shirt in Frank's fist. Okay, now she's getting angry.

"What's going on here?"

Frank doesn't immediately let Milton go like he normally does, and that really puts Kim out. She narrows her eyes, half daring him to challenge her.

He does.

"Listen Kimmy, I'll stop shaking down mil-turd over here if you go out with me. Heck, I won't bother him ever again if you become my girlfriend."

Kim freezes.

She has several problems with what he's just said. And normally she tries really hard to be good, okay, she honestly does. But this time...this time she's about to snap.

"Are you...are you blackmailing me? Okay, listen here bucko," she snarls. "First of all, you let Milton go right now— _right now_ —or we're going to have a serious problem. Secondly, are you deaf? Stupid, maybe? I thought I made it clear that I don't ever want to date you, and _blackmailing me_ isn't a great way to try and up your chances, okay."

But Frank does not put Milton down, and Kim swallows as some of his friends from the football team press closer to her. "Actually, sweetheart, I think you'll do exactly as I say. Or else Krupnick here is going to suffer for the rest of his high school life."

One of the guys reaches out for her, and she snaps. Literally. She's twisting his arm and pressing him into the tile with her sneaker, a scowl on her face. Milton takes back what he thought before about her not being able to look angry with anyone.

"You want to push me around, Bickle? It's not going to end well for you, I promise."

Frank doesn't look intimidated, but she's about to change that.

At least, until someone decides to step in and intervene.

The guy is taller than her, of course, so she can't see him very well. But he's facing Frank and raising his hands in a 'whoa there man' gesture. "Hey guys, you should really leave the girl and her friend alone—"

Kim winces sympathetically as his face snaps to the side, after suffering a vicious punch from Frank. "Stay out of this, _newbie._ It's between me and Kimmy."

She doesn't see his face, but she hears the anger in his voice. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

Frank lets go of Milton and takes a step forward before roughly shoving the new guy's chest. Hard. She hears the impact and grimaces. "Oh yeah, and what're you gonna do about it?"

"Normally I don't get into fights. Kinda goes against my code of honor, but I think I can make an exception this time."

Then he kicks frank in the chest.

Oh, Kim thinks, oh.

All of Frank's friends quickly gang up on him, and Kim squeezes extra hard on the hand in her grasp and glares down at the football player on the floor. "You. Stay."

She releases his hand and moves onto the next guy closest to her, and after that, she comes back-to-back with the new guy. Frank is still down for the count, but there are six or seven of his friends crowded around them.

I don't need help," new guy grinds out.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah well, this was originally my fight, okay. I didn't need any help either. What do you say we just work together for a few minutes, alright?"

Kim takes his silence as a form of reluctant agreement, and then they set to work. Everything goes pretty fast on her end because the boys are still hesitant to hit a girl. This makes things frustratingly easy. After she's dispatched her half, and her temporary partner is finishing off the last guy, she notices Frank staggering toward him in her peripheral.

"And lastly," she growls lowly, pulling frank back by his jacket and looking him square in the eye. " _nobody_ calls me Kimmy."

He groans when she socks him and drops him on the floor, and Milton eyes her in wonder.

"Kim, I didn't know that...you could do...that."

She freezes at the sound of clapping and suddenly thinks of a million things at once. How she must look, how she lost her temper, how she fought side-by-side with some random new guy that, admittedly, had moves. How her medallion is hanging out of her shirt.

Frantically patting down her hair, she slowly turns to face the source of the lone clapping. Predictably, it's the new guy.

Unpredictably, it's also the guy who ran into while skateboarding at the mall last Friday.

 _Why is this my life_ , she wonders hopelessly, staring at him as he smirks.

"Great job Kimmy," he says, "I think you just put the fear of...well, something into those guys."

She wants to crawl in a hole and die. Mainly because she's embarrassed herself again, but also because while he may be one of the handsomest boys she's ever seen, he certainly is a dick. Almost all of her initial attraction to him flies out the metaphorical window and dies a horrible death by drowning, along with the rest of her smothered hopes and dreams.

Kim kind of feels like punching him, too. But she doesn't. Not yet. "Whatever. And it's Kim. Didn't you see what I did to the last guy who called me that?"

He grins, and she doesn't like the way it affects her. "So _Kim_ , my name's Jack Brewer."

"Crawford. And that," she points at Milton with her thumb, "is Milton Krupnick. So," she bends down to pick up her books, and is surprised when Jack leans down to help her. "You're new here."

He hands her a biology book. "Just moved."

Kim stands and scuffs her sneakers across the tile a few times. "Oh, I know what that's like. Kinda sucks."

Jack shoves his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. So," he looks at her, "friends?"

She narrows her eyes at him, but shrugs. "Sure. If you don't call me 'Kimmy' ever again in your life."

He turns away. "Whatever you say, Kimmy."

Kim throws her history textbook at his head, which he catches without much effort.

Great.

x

Later, Milton nervously walks beside Kim as they head home from Falafel Phil's. It's getting dark outside, but her steps are confident and sure, like she hadn't even gotten into a free-for-all on school grounds just three hours before. The thought does nothing to ease his anxiousness.

"You don't think Frank would tell, do you?"

Kim pauses to look back at him. "And what would he even say? That he and his friends were beaten by tiny little Kim Crawford and the new kid? Yeah right," she laughs. "He'd never live it down. Being beaten by a _girl_ and all."

Milton detects some bitterness in her tone, but she doesn't elaborate so he doesn't pry. "Still though, he could say something about jack."

She bobs her head in the rhythm of her steps. "He could, but I don't think he will. Frank cares too much about his own ego more than anything. He won't want anyone outside of who saw it to know. I think we're safe."

He sinks under the weight of his backpack as she stops in front of an alleyway. "Hey Milton, want to see a shortcut? It's getting late and I know how you don't like to be out after dark, so."

She glances back at him, eyes bright and he's happy that she remembered. Alleys make him nervous though. Think of all the bad things that happen in them in all the movies and tv shows, he wants to say. I don't want to get mugged and left in a dumpster even though I only have three dollars, he wants to insist. But she's throwing that pretty smile his way again, and he sighs.

"Sure."

The blonde's smile widens and she skips into the alley, waving a hand toward him. "Okay, I promise nothing bad'll happen," she scoffs. "I mean come on, this is _Seaford_ for crying out loud. The last major crisis we had was when the parade got held up."

He follows her into the darkness. "Yeah, you're right, what could possibly—"

And then ninjas.

Kim comes to an abrupt halt as five or six dark-clad figures jump from the rooftops and onto the ground around them, all carrying sharp weapons and not looking friendly at all.

Milton turns his head to look at her panicked face. "You were saying?"

—

 **end notes:** also my apologies in advance because i haven't seen this show in forever. kim's kind of hard to write at first bc she acts cool but we all know that she's clumsy and almost a complete dork.


End file.
